


Attention

by wrote_and_writ



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4886857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrote_and_writ/pseuds/wrote_and_writ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras works too hard. Grantaire catches his attention.</p><p>For the Favorite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attention

Enjolras sat at the battered cafe table, making indecipherable notations on a scrap of paper. He drummed the fingers of his left hand against the table and jiggled his knee so hard the table shook, causing Grantaire's wine to slosh out of his cup, on the table and over Grantaire's hand. Joly and Musichetta exchanged glances as Grantaire clenched his fist and cleared out of the back room in which the Amis had gathered that afternoon, leaving Enjolras and Grantaire alone.  


Enjolras was oblivious to it all.  


"Enjoras." Grantaire wiped his hand on his trouser leg.  


"Mmm," he replied noncommittally. He scratched another notation on his paper and chewed at his bottom lip.  


"Enjolras," Grantaire said again, "you need to take a break, I think."  


"Whatever you want. I'm not hungry." More writing, more lip-chewing.  


"Enjolras." Grantaire waited, but Enjolras did not speak again. Grantaire sighed. He scooted his chair away from the table and moved to Enjolras's side. He crouched down beside him and looked at the notes Enjolras scribbled. Grantaire could not make heads or tails of it. He knew Enjolras had a meeting with an advisor later that week, but he would tell Grantaire nothing about it, though Grantaire could see Enjolras was worried.  


He put a hand on Enjolras's thigh. "E, put your things away, just for awhile. We can take a walk."  


"Not hungry," Enjolras said again.  


Grantaire grimaced. He would have to try something different. He rested his head on Enjolras's shoulder and traced his hand further up Enjolras's thigh. "Hey, Enjolras. Hey. Hey." He poked Enjolras's side. "Enjolras. Enjolras. Hey. Enjolras."  


Enjolras flicked a glance at Grantaire. "Ten more minutes."  


Grantaire sighed. He stood and stretched and retrieved a few coins from his pocket. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, and he was sure Enjolras hadn't eaten since at least the morning before. He ducked out to order bread and bowls of stew and bottles of cheap wine, paying the young woman who brought it to them with the last of his money.  


An hour later, the food cooled on the table, Enjolras scribbled away on his paper, and Grantaire fumed in his seat.  


Enjolras scratched on the paper. Grantaire fumed and drank another bottle of wine.  


"Enjolras," Grantaire slurred, louder than he intended. At that moment, Marius stuck his head in the doorframe but backed out when he caught sight of the scowl on Grantaire's face. Grantaire heard whispered conference. He stormed to the door and slammed it shut, cutting off whatever Bossuet had been about to say. He strode to Enjolras's side and dropped down beside him.  


"Long live the monarchy," he snarled, his breath hot on Enjolras's ear.  


Enjolras dropped his pen on the table. Grantaire had his attention now.  


Enjolras was on his feet in a flash. He gripped Grantaire's lapels and propelled him backwards. Grantaire was too surprised and drunk to resist as Enjolras slammed him against the wall.  


"Does my work amuse you, mon ami? Does our struggle mean so little?" His voice was dangerously soft.  


Grantaire blinked and marshaled his thoughts.  


"Does your health mean so little? Your friends? Mon ami?" Grantaire spat the words back at him, his temper thoroughly roused now. He tried to push past Enjolras but tripped and fell against him, taking them both to the ground. They tussled, rolling on the dirty floor until Enjolras had Grantaire pinned beneath him. They stared at one another, chests heaving. A hank of bright blond hair fell across Enjolras's forehead. Grantaire reached up and brushed it aside. Enjolras flushed and sat back, allowing Grantaire to sit as well.  


"You need to eat something," Grantaire said as he struggled to stand. Enjolras stood and extended a hand to help Grantaire, but Grantaire waved him away. He brushed off the seat of his trousers and moved to stand beside Enjolras. He gripped Enjolras's arm. "Eat something," he urged Enjolras.  


Enjolras took a breath and licked his lips. Before Grantaire could step back, Enjolras leaned in for a swift kiss.  


Grantaire surprised Enjolras with a sharp laugh. "That is not what I meant."  


Enjolras blushed and stepped back, but Grantaire clasped his waist, pulled him close, and kissed him back, nuzzling his cheek.  


"Eat something," he whispered against Enjolras's cheek, "and then come home with me. Your work will keep til morning."  


"I haven't time to--"  


Grantaire stopped him with a lingering kiss. Enjolras sighed against him.  


"Alright," Enjolras said, "you win for now. Go tell the others we haven't killed each other this time. I will eat and join you shortly."  



End file.
